


Can we stop

by Valentis



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: Abuse, Blood, Gen, Regret, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 15:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2030997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valentis/pseuds/Valentis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which Richie returns home from Afghanistan</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can we stop

**Author's Note:**

> Not reality based or critique against any part

_It felt like the split second of a car crash. The loud bang, the shock wave hitting his face. Only, he didn't die. His adrenaline was pumping as he opened his eyes, in fear and confusion, as he eyed the civilian lying on the ground, holding the wire detonator, with his head split open._

 

_The terror hit Richie as he quickly raised his arm to wipe the brain off his face with his sleeve. The terror hit him, that this is not where he is supposed to be, this is not where he wants to be, or what he thought it would be like. And oh how that feeling would haunt him for the rest of his stay._

 

_He bent down to rip open the civilian's shirt. I could have defused it. I could have saved him. They didn't have to shoot him._

 

Richie was brought back to the present by the car hitting a bump on the road. He looked through the window, wishing that he would be somewhere else than Texas right now. It bore an eerie resemblance to the deserts in Afghanistan.

 

As he closed his eyes, he could feel the blood splatter his face again, hear the shot ringing in his ears, feel his heart twitch.

 

He gasped, reaching quickly out for Seth's hand, squeezing it.

 

“Richie?” Seth asked, not anymore focused on driving. Richie quickly turned his head to stare at Seth. _It's Seth, it's just Seth, I'm home now, I'm not in Afghanistan._

 

Seth felt the stare of Richie burn through him, worry eating up his stomach. Meeting Richie at the airport wasn't exactly what he had imagined it to be. He had ran up to him, hugged him, since ever since Richie had blurted out that he was leaving for Afghanistan Seth had been unable to calm his nerves, _what if I would never see him again?_ But Richie wasn't as enthusiastic as Seth, and that hurt Seth a lot. _My brother went there, and what came back was just a shell of what he used to be._

 

_He'll be ok, he's just shaken, like anyone else would be._

 

“Richie!” Seth said louder, the intense stare of his baby brother giving him chills down his spine. Richie blinked, and as his eyes fluttered open Seth could see a new calmness in the blue pools. Richie sighed, letting go of Seth's hand as he turned to look out the window again, noticing that he had been mentally absent.

 

“You okay?” Seth asked, his gaze not leaving Richie, even though he should focus on driving.

 

“Yeah.” Richie answered, wanting to believe it himself. “Yeah..” He repeated, more quiet, to reassure himself.

 

_They had suspicions that a few members of the Taliban had sought shelter in one of the civilian houses, and they were organizing a raid._

 

_Richie followed his fellow American co-workers and two translators that worked with them in to the house, and he quickly scanned the room._

 

_A small family lived there, and he could see the fear in their eyes._

 

_One of the Americans walked up to the elder male in the house, smashing his face with the back of his gun. The translator was yelling in Pashto at the family._

 

_Richie watched from the side, watching unnecessary violence occur. The woman was crying faintly and the children had started to wail._

 

_It's not their fault, Richie knew. If people didn't give the Taliban what they wanted, they'd get killed. He couldn't do much but stand and watch though._

 

_He didn't have to watch as he heard the gun fire, to know what was happening._

 

_Terrorizing them isn't going to help the situation, they will only hate us more._

 

_It wasn't exactly the best thing to do, and as the gun went off he knew that the members of the Taliban knew for sure they were there._

 

_He and a few of his team went deeper into the house, and he heard gunshots as one of his co-workers entered a room. He was quick to aid, carefully slinking into the room._

 

_It wasn't exactly what he had expected to see. Boys, not older than sixteen, were trying to fire at them. Their small fragile hands were trembling and every shot fired missed._

 

_Richie had to fire at them. The accuracy of his shots were like a mockery to the boys. Right between the eyes._

 

_I'm not used to this. I'm not used to this._

 

_What have I become?_

 

“Richie?” He heard Seth ask. He spun around, meeting Seth's eyes.

 

“I asked you if you were hungry?”

 

Richie looked at his room. Once, it was a familiar sight. Now Richie barely recognized it. He had removed his clothes, gotten dressed in something more casual. _I'm never putting on my uniform again._

 

He never answered Seth verbally, but he walked up to him and nodded, avoiding eye contact. Seth gave a reassuring smile and placed his hand between Richie's shoulders, and followed him out.

 

“You haven't had a Kahuna burger in a while, have you?” Seth laughed, as they drove down to the fast food restaurant. Richie flashed him a faint smile.

 

“No.”

 

The brought their food outside to a park. Richie felt in peace as he took in the atmosphere. Green trees branching to the sky, flowers blooming, children laughing and birds singing. Richie could relax. He hasn't heard children laugh in a while.

 

“So do you have any interesting war stories you could tell?” Seth smiled, hitting Richie's shoulder playfully. All he got for a reply was a glare. _Why would you want to know anything of this horrid ordeal?_

 

Seth felt uncomfortable with Richie. This day had been nothing but awkward for him. He tried to get in touch with Richie but Richie turned him down time after time. Seth almost wanted to give up on Richie, but he could only imagine what Richie had been through. _I will be here by your side. I know you need me._

 

_They had been driving when a bomb hit their truck. It was a tiny excuse for a bomb as Richie was barely hurt, but a few had gotten injured. His teammates had raided the whole street, pulling out civilians from their homes, making them line up and kneel on the road._

 

_They were swabbing the civilians' hands for bomb residue, with the translator yelling at them, only god knows what. Maybe threats, maybe interrogation, maybe it was simple mockery. It didn't sound hospitable though. One civilian got up and tried to run, getting shot down before even getting far._

 

_This isn't who we are. We are an trained elite group, here to restore peace, not worsen what is already hell. We are elite, not monsters, not machines set to kill._

 

_Yet all Richie could see was monsters. Am I one too?_

 

“It's so ironic.” Richie blurted out after having finished his drink.

 

“What?” Seth said, glancing up at his brother, still sipping on his.

 

“How killing someone makes you a hero.”

 

It was quiet for a while. Seth could feel his little baby brother tremble.

 

“Did you kill many?”

 

“A few. Saw even more die.”

 

Seth didn't know what to answer, what was appropriate to say in a situation like this. _I wish you never had to go through that, Richie._ What could he even say to ease his brother's pain? It wasn't much. He reached out for Richie's hand.

 

“Did any of your friends die?” Seth asked, wondering whether that was bugging his brother.

 

“No.”

 

Seth felt relief at that. He smiled. “Well that's goo-”

 

“I didn't have any friends.”

 

_How could the government send people like this out here, to do whatever pleased them?_

 

“ _Do it, Richie.” He was whispered to in his ear, his name feeling like poison seeping through the lips._

 

_No. I'm not like you._

 

_He heard the click of a gun getting loaded, and felt it point at the side of his head, just above his ear._

 

“ _Do it. Otherwise you're useless to us.”_

 

_Human life was of no value to these people. He raised his hand, the gun pointing at an elderly man who was down on his knees, hands tied behind his back._

 

_They had captured a few who they found making a home built device, destined to blow up Richie and the others._

 

_Yet it felt wrong, seeing the fear in the man's eyes._

 

_But he felt the gun getting pushed at his head, and he had no choice but to. He pulled the trigger before he could hesitate, wanting to close his eyes or even show remorse for the poor man who had trembled in front of him, yet he was ice cold and watched as the man fell to the ground, his head blown up._

 

_And then he pulled the trigger on the next person. And the next, and the next, all while having a gun pointed to his own head._

 

“ _See, it wasn't too difficult now was it?”_

 

_It's frightening to know what you're capable of._

 

Richie heard guns getting fired. He could only feel his heart jump to his throat, cold sweat trail down his forehead, his breath hitch.

 

He was momentarily in Afghanistan.

 

His stomach went into a knot and his blood ran cold. He wailed out.

 

“Oh shit Richie!” Seth shouted, turning off the tv as quick as he managed to. He had in the midst of his movie watching forgotten about Richie, settling on an old gangster film. It had not occurred to him that his baby brother was back, being gone for so long.

 

He ran up to Richie, whose face was streaming with tears. He hugged him tightly, rubbing his back with one hand and the other on Richie's neck, pulling him close.

 

The scent of fear had filled the room.

 

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” Was all Seth could say.

 

_He watched as they took people out of old dusty ship containers by their headquarters, and led them into a room and bind them to chairs._

 

_He watched carefully as they were hit and tortured, yelled at, not knowing whether his team actually believed these people were responsible or whether they just enjoyed it._

 

_Richie knew they weren't responsible._

 

_And he felt so helpless. He wanted them to stop, but there was no one who could stop them._

 

_Is this really what the brave soldiers are? The heroes that people worship back home in America? Is this really what we are?_

 

_He couldn't do much, having felt the cold steel pressed against his head._

 

_He walked out._

 

Seth came out running to the backyard, his body pumped with fear. The sky was painted with stars and the town was asleep.

 

“What the fuck are you doing!?” He yelled, watching the flames dance up in the sky, like tongues tasting the air.

 

Richie sat close by, turning his head to meet Seth's eyes, but not giving him any answer.

 

And Seth saw it. Everything Richie brought home from Afghanistan – his apparel, his backpack, photos, everything, was in flames.

 

He sat down next to Richie.

 

“If I had known back then, what I know right now.” Richie whispered, and in that moment, Seth knew.

 

He hugged his little brother, stroking the hair as they both watched everything that linked Richie to Afghanistan turn into ashes.

 


End file.
